By Essie Newton
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She didn’t
expect me to come.
Before, I
wouldn’t have expected me to come either, but here we are.
I put my arm
around her and hold her close, as the sirens fade away into the
background.
For a moment,
everything seems silent.
****
It’s weird when
complete strangers are doing the exact same thing, everywhere, at the same
time.
I was at a
coffee shop, but that’s not important.
What’s
important is how still everything and everyone was.
CLAPT-T-T-T-t-t-t
The mug the
barista was holding shatters into a million pieces and dances across the
floor.
No one looks
away from the screens.
There are two
reactions to a man in a suit on TV: boredom and fear. It is fear this
time.
Somehow, I am
the first to get out of the trance. I pack up my laptop and leave my coffee cup
behind. I can’t have anything slowing me down.
I walk fast,
but not too fast.
You can’t walk
too fast, or else they will be able to tell.
I know I
should’ve gotten out before this happened.
But I didn’t
think it would, and if it did, I didn’t think I had anyone left to care
about.
You really
need to take better care of yourself. I can’t always be there to remind you to
not forget about yourself.
She told me
that two weeks before she left.
She was
right.
I never
understood why she didn’t leave. In the club where we met, it was clear why
everyone else stayed.
But she was
different. She hadn’t given up, she had people she cared about. She had a
chance to leave.
I can’t keep
thinking about her, I just have to keep walking back to my apartment.
****
I got there
somehow. I think everyone was still in shock, and I just barely made it in the
window of time needed for everyone to prepare.
I live in a
basement unit, which normally is crap, but now I’m thanking God I took
it.
I put furniture
in front of the door. I had maybe a couple days’ worth of food. I should have
stockpiled.
Little Pig paws
at me for a treat.
Should I let
him go, or should I
No. I don’t
need to. But I do need him right now. I get him a treat and sit down. Piggy
curls on my lap and purrs.
He can tell I’m
worried, which I’m surprised I am.
I knew this
would happen one day, I just thought I would accept it.
Is this how
they felt? When they saw them marching down the street? When the tanks crossed
the border? When the explosions next door echoed in their ears?
I remember the
results. Everyone online wanted to watch the world burn. When the winner came
into power, not even a single week had passed before some people began to
regret their choices.
But not all of
them.
I flip through
various news channels, while scrolling through my phone. Every half second
brings a new horror story to my eyes. There is even some AI-generated crap
thrown in there.
But the
situation doesn’t need to be made up, it is happening. It is happening again.
I don’t get why
people are surprised it’s happening again.
History is just
powerful people having weak people destroy weaker people. It’s how the world
works.
I’m not
really that surprised you used to do all of that.
That’s what she
said to me when I told her about how I used to be very involved politically.
Going to protests, donating as much as I could, trying to be kind and
understanding to everyone I met.
You’re an
amazing person to be with. You have this great and gentle heart. That’s who I
fell in love with.
For a moment,
it felt like I could be that person again. I wanted to be that person again to
impress her, to live up to her.
Then that man
came into her store. He knew what she was.
He got away
with it, he knew he would.
I wanted to
kill him.
Then the
election happened. We both tried to hold onto each other. But it’s hard to do
that when you’re trapped inside of a hurricane.
A couple years
passed, and pretty much every face on the street was either white, rich, or
both.
How did that
happen? Enough people believed in god.
Not a made up,
ancient god. A real one. A human god.
****
I scroll
through social media. Specifically, the social media that isn’t bootlicking.
Every post is a horrible ending and every comment is a call to action.
Basically, what is happening on social media right now has happened before in
the last couple of years.
So, nothing is
going to happen in real life. Great.
M-M-MEOW
Pig leapt off
of the fridge. He purrs at me and then lies like a shrimp on a paper towel.
Weirdo.
I look back
down at my phone and see her face. She is at a protest, in front of a
live-streaming camera.
Shots come
ringing out of my phone. The live-streamer ducks. I stand up
instinctively.
Is she okay?
She has to be okay!
I text
her.
Nothing.
I call
her.
Nothing.
I text, I call,
I text, I call, I text, I call…
Nothing,
absolutely nothing.
****
A couple days
went by, and I finally let Piggy out.
“I’m out of
food,” I let him know. You’re better off without me.
He goes off, no
doubt thinking he’ll come back with a mouse for me to choke down. He was always
a good friend to me.
I sit down with
a drink and a bottle of pills. I don’t know if they’ll be enough, but maybe if
I wish hard enough, they’ll work anyway.
I turn off
everything and just sit there.
Thinking about
life, thinking about her, thinking about me.
I wish I was
out there. I wish I would go down fighting. But I’ve given up. Well, I gave up
a long time ago, so it’s more like I decided to keep giving up.
Ding-g-g-g-g-g
I reach for my
phone. I’m not getting up to grab it.
“Can u come
over?”
It’s her.
“I thought u
were ded?????? U were shot??????”
“I was. But
I got out of there. Can u head over to my place, I need u rn” “Omw”
I’m about to
walk out the door, when I remember the hellscape outside. I put on some
traditionally-gendered clothes and grab a lamp. Just have to get there somehow.
****
It’s as bad as
I thought. Though I didn’t expect it to stink so much.
I guess that’s
what happens when you forget to clean up your dead bodies as you go.
I stick to the
shadows and dark alleyways. No point in walking right down the street, if I
actually want to get somewhere.
CH-CH-CH-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch
Glass shards
fly all over the streets.
“Got another
one, boys!”
A group of
white men in white clothing start beating up a woman.
Real creative
costumes, guys. Maybe add some lightning bolts next time?
I shake my
head. Why does dark comedy have to be my trauma response, because it’s a really
awful response to when stuff like this is happening.
The men are so
loud, they don’t notice me slipping by them.
The TVs in the
stores and public spaces are all playing the video.
His stupid face
keeps going on and on about enemies and protecting the country and being proud
and being the good guys, standard stuff really.
But the
important thing is said in a moment.
“All hate
crimes are now federal, and all federal hate crimes will be pardoned by
me.”
The courts are
too slow to stop the effects, and this country has too many guns.
I don’t know
why I left my gun at my apartment.
I guess I just
knew I wasn’t going back. Maybe someone else could use it. ****
It’s dark when
I get to her neighborhood. The cops are out now, enforcing the new curfew the
governor put on the state.
Who knows what
the governor is trying to accomplish with the curfew. F-F-F-F-F, TT-TT-TT-TT,
BANG BANG BANG
Fire, gunshots,
and firecrackers rush onto the street. The white wolves are chasing down their
bloodied prey.
Young, old,
female, male. It doesn’t matter. If it has a pulse and is not one of them, the
wolves feast.
W-W-WA-WA-WA-WA-WA-WA
The sirens turn
on as the ending of George Orwell’s Animal Farm comes to life.
My ears can
barely hear as I rush to her building. I quickly jump in and close the door. A
shotgun is pointed at my head.
“You one of
them?”
Red hat.
“Patriot, my
friend. God bless us all.”
The man in the
red hat laughs, “Doubt that lamp’s gonna do much. Here, use this instead.”
I smile and
take the pistol from him. I exchange a hunting prayer with him, and then he
goes past me and into the bloody chaos of the street.
I then run up
the stairs as fast as I can.
****
I reach her
door and knock.
Tht-tht-tht
“Hey, it’s me,
Mulder,” I reference our favorite show.
The door opens
slowly, “No one followed you?”
“No,” I walk
in, as she closes the door behind me. “Are you okay?”
My fears prove
to be somewhat true. She’s alive, but the bloody pool on her shirt answers my
question.
“The bullet
went through completely… I think,” She lets me lift up her shirt to see the
damage.
“Yeah, it did,”
I place the bandage back over the wound. “I ran into your neighbor downstairs.
He seems happy for once.”
She laughs and
then winces.
It was the kind
of laugh I had heard from her before… Before all of this.
“He doesn’t
know I’m here,” She tells me. “But that’ll probably change soon. They’re more
organized now and are going through every building, trying to find every last
one of us.”
I don’t have
anything witty to say in response, so I just let the silence speak for
me.
After a few
moments, I finally say something, “Is there a place you can go?” “Yeah,” She
nods. “Will you come with me?”
She wants me to
come? I…
I shake my
head, “I don’t deserve to be saved by anyone. I was only out on the streets to
get to you. And I don’t have a gunshot wound to match with you, so…”
“Yes, you do,”
She grabs my hand. “We both do. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell
you.”
I flashback to
when she broke up with me.
You really
need to take better care of yourself. I can’t always be there to remind you to
not forget about yourself.
She wasn’t
talking about losing who I was, or giving up. She was talking about how I was
worth saving, just as much as anyone who was brave enough to fight back.
“I… I think I
understand now,” I try to smile. “But I’ve done everything I can do. I made
sure you’re safe.”
“Then if you
won’t go, then I won’t go, either.”
“But- You have
so much to live for! You’re going to fight… you always do!” “I fight for you,”
She smiles at me.
It takes a few
minutes for my mind to think of anything else but those words. When I’m finally
able to snap out of my trance, I have an idea.
“Do you wanna
livestream?”
“Why?”
“There’s a lot
of stuff online, awful stuff. I want to give them something to fight
for.”
“Then let’s do
it,” She grabs my hand.
I smile and get
on a non-bootlicking social media app. I hit the livestream button.
She speaks
first, “Hey, everyone. There’s a lot going on outside, but we’re here, and
we’re gonna stay here.”
I go next,
“Probably not for very long, if your neighbor figures out we’re here.” She
laughs, “Yeah, but at least he’s happy now.”
I laugh with
her.
“I’ve been out
on the streets, fighting back. I got hit with a bullet. It hurts like hell,”
She continues. “But I’m not done fighting. We’re gonna livestream the rest of
our lives, and I’m okay with that.”
“Me, too,” I
squeeze her hand. “We met before this all started. Then after a couple years of
this shitshow, we broke up.”
“But you came
for me,” She looks at me. “I didn’t think you would, but you did.”
She didn’t
expect me to come.
Before, I
wouldn’t have expected me to come either, but here we are.
I put my arm
around her and hold her close, as the sirens fade away into the
background.
For a moment,
everything seems silent-
About the Author
Essie Newton (they/them) is in their second and final year at ICC. They currently live in Peoria, Illinois, and plan on attending EIU to get their bachelor’s degree. Essie prefers to write fiction creatively but will delve into their own experiences for both fictional and nonfictional pieces. Other than writing, Essie enjoys playing video games and listening to music.